


Good Old Days

by Aella_Antiope



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Ending, Brothers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aella_Antiope/pseuds/Aella_Antiope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarrlok makes a different choice in Endgame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Old Days

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed with thanks by night-owl-9.

Tarrlok paused to admire the view. From his vantage point, he could see all the way down to the valley floor. Faintly, the whitewashed houses of the village could be seen on the other side of the lake, which was vivid blue at this time of day. The colours here were all so vibrant, nothing like the capital, and so far away from any major town. 

It was the primary reason Noatak had accepted this place to wait and recuperate. Anyone trying to reach their simple stone hut could be spotted miles away. There was a narrow goat track that meandered through the rocky outcrop behind the hut. It was a way for them to retreat if necessary. Noatak had a contingency plan for everything, it seemed. 

Once, Tarrlok felt the same way. So caught up in schemes and plots he’d been unable to see the truth of his unhappiness.

Aimlessly, he picked up one of the tiny alpine purple flowers that covered the slopes and let his mind wander.

“I need to rest, Noa,” he’d said the week before, his voice flat. “I’m tired.” And while Tarrlok was using those words for an ulterior purpose, there was truth underneath the surface. Having his bending taken away, spending a week in a cold cell, and then narrowly escaping with his manic brother before embarking on a journey across half a continent had taken a toll. 

“Of course, brother. It’s probably for the best to remain inconspicuous. With luck, they will assume us dead when they find the wreckage. But, just in case, a year in hiding will give them time to grow complacent, and then we will strike.” Noatak’s face was triumphant at the imagined scenario. His eyes gleamed at the possible victory.

Tarrlok had nodded, relieved despite Noatak’s unhealthy obsession. He had a reprieve, time to find some solution. And if not, well, there was the black hemlock hidden in his pack. He had picked that up when they traded at Gaoling for supplies a few week ago. He did not know if he wanted to use it or not. That was a decision for the future.

~***~

Tarrlok had almost killed his brother. He had almost killed them both on the boat after they barely escaped the harbour. He’d had nightmares of it ever since, of using one of Sato’s dreadful inventions, the damned electric gloves, and setting it on the boat’s fuel. It would have killed them quickly. Instantly.

Knowing how desperate he felt at the time didn’t change his horror at the memory. 

Noatak sounded so like their father, full of bitterness and consumed by revenge. Tarrlok didn’t want that anymore, was tired of it. In that moment, it seemed the only solution. He couldn’t stand by and watch his brother hurt more people, and Tarrlok couldn’t live without him. His life had been empty ever since he’d been left alone as a child. Tarrlok couldn’t do that again. So, he’d taken the glove, screwing up his courage for the end.

“It will be just like the good old days,” he’d said. And Noa had looked back at him with a smile, tears flowing down his face. With a loud thud, Tarrlok dropped the glove. 

_The good old days._

~***~

Of course, the nightmares didn’t stop his resolve. At the very least, it only delayed the inevitable. At the best, well, his hopes were small, but they hadn’t been completely shattered. Not yet.

Perhaps he’d be able to reach his brother. Perhaps he’d be able to convince Noatak to stop this course of action. 

As long as he lived, Tarrlok would not stop trying. He had spent most of his adult life using words to influence others; he would try to reason with Noatak, carefully and slowly. Noa was the only family he had. He’d do nothing less.

And, if things did come to an end, he would have had a year with his brother. He would have had time to get to know him again, time to have some type of family. 

Those tired thoughts had gone through his head as he’d watched from the beach as Noatak blew the boat to pieces. They left their clothes on the boat; hopefully pieces of it would scatter and be found by Beifong’s police. With any luck, that would buy them time. 

But no matter what, he’d not leave his brother, not now. Not ever.

In the present, he let the flower go and watched it as it was taken by the wind down the valley and then turned back to the hut, where Noa would be waiting.

~***~


End file.
